Learning to Fly
by SlothBeans
Summary: Sequel to "Birth of an Angel" His wings form a protective bubble around his already curled form instinctively, creating a barrier between the two angels without Peter even thinking about it. He doesn't mean to hide from his mother, but the exhaustion from being up so early runs deep, and his body is fighting for sleep the only way it knows how. He isn't ready to start school yet.
1. Chapter 1

Tony isn't ready for this. He thought he was strong, but there's no way for a father can ever be prepared for this.

It should be easy enough. Tony knows his son will have an easy first day. Peter's a smart boy - he really has inherited his father's intelligence and wits. And the boy's incredibly attentive and neighborly to everyone he meets - something he definitely inherited from his mother since Tony's social skills are still rocky at best. There's no way anyone could not love Peter. Everything will go off without a hitch.

Yet there's still a seed of doubt that seems to be planted deep within the father's psyche. He tries to ignore the swirling dark thoughts growing in the back of his mind - the reflection of his own shitty childhood - but the more he thinks about his son, the more stressed out he becomes. There's a deep panic growing inside him and with his eyes closed tight, he doesn't even have the comfort of his wife's wings.

He palms his hands in desperation. It's an attempt to calm himself that Pepper's seen so many times before. The action is mostly done in his workshop when a project is stressing him out, but he's sometimes done it naturally without his tools. And without the tools in his hand and a way to output the energy, there's no relief in her husband's motions.

"You need to calm down, Tony. It's okay to be nervous sometimes, but Peter's going to pick up on it too. We can't have him freaked out on his first day of school."

Pepper is right. He doesn't want to freak out Peter on such an important day. Peter is exceptionally attuned to other people's emotions.

He forces himself to take in deep breaths in a risky attempt to calm himself. He squeezes his hands still even though the energy is still surging within him. And although he's still feeling just as chaotic and scared on the inside, he looks almost entirely natural on the outside. His wife will surely still sense his distress, but it should be enough to keep Peter in the dark.

Pepper takes her husbands hand and slowly entangles their fingers together. She squeezes in a show of support. He squeezes back as he takes in her calming scent. It doesn't do much to calm the swirling dark inside of him, but it reminds him that he isn't alone.

"What if we just kept him home for another year? Home school him for a bit. It's only preschool. Surely we can just hire him a top of the line tutor."

"You know why we can't do that. He needs proper human interaction and natural experiences. It's good for him to be around other children. He's ready for this, Tony. You just need to believe in him."

Tony believes in his son so much it hurts. He would never want to give off the impression that he doesn't believe in Peter.

He just doesn't trust everyone else. He knows people will use Peter and take advantage of his giving nature - his angel's complex. Surely someone will hurt his innocent little boy. He isn't ready for Peter to bear the weight of the world on his wings - even if it seems the rest of the world is okay with the fact the two people Tony loves most will be gone someday for a higher purpose.

"What if he gets hurt? What if someone hurts him? And we aren't there to protect him?"

When there's no response, he looks up into his wife's eyes. They're swirling blue, reflecting the light the same way as the holiday gala so many years ago. She's the same woman he fell in love with and for a second, he can't believe they've built such a happy little family together. If this is their biggest problem, they're living a pretty good life.

"I don't want him to worry. Or suffer. That isn't too much to ask. He deserves a better childhood than I ever have."

"We can't bubble-wrap him and hide him away from the world. He's such a good kid. He'll make lots of friends today. Good friends. I promise."

Tony thinks to himself. Inside all his fear, he can feel the love of his friends and family. Pepper is right.

All the kid needs is one really good friend. All the father can do is hope.

* * *

Peter isn't used to being woken up this early, so when he feels his mother gently shaking him through his thin covers, the boy's first reaction is to roll over and hide. It's easy enough to do when he has extra appendages that dual function as a shield. His wings form a protective bubble around his already curled up form instinctively, creating a barrier between the two angels without Peter even thinking about it. He doesn't mean to hide from his mother, but the exhaustion from being up so early runs deep, and his body is fighting for sleep the only way it knows how.

He can feel his wings tightening in resistance up as his mother places her warm hands on his wings. There's a gentle effort to wedge them aside as she tries to break the bubble, but he's fighting back too hard. His wings are too tense and she makes very little progress since she doesn't want to hurt her boy. They both know this is only a natural response. There's no need for her to get upset. That isn't the kind of mother she wants to be.

"Peter. It's your first day of school. You have to wake up," she whispers.

When Peter fights to hide himself a second time, clinging tightly to his spider plushie under the comfort of his wings and tightening his body around itself, his mom knows she has to try something else. No fighting or yelling will happen this morning. Just love. She still hasn't attempted relaxing his wings open.

Pepper softly sits on the edge of Peter's bed with her own wings tucked carefully behind her form. She takes a moment to pull her son into her lap, which is exceptionally easy to do with the boy's small form.

Peter's wings are still tucked protectively around his body as he settles onto her lap and listens to the beating of her heart. Pepper tries to look into his chestnut eyes and floppy brown curls, but the boy's face is still completely shielded by his wings. She'll have to work a little bit harder to look into her son's soul this morning.

The mom tucks her fingers into the fuzz of her son's wings and begins running them through his feathers and down. They're soft. Most of his feathers are still small and baby like, only beginning to grow to their proper length of her own. She can feel herself calming from the sensation of her son's down in the most maternal way.

Pepper finds this completely different than when her husband plays with her wings. Unlike the passion of Tony's fingers, the mom's fingers move in a slower, more careful motion. Her actions are purely maternal, only further deepening the bond between mother and son. The mom takes her time as she works through his wings, combing his feathers into the proper direction, picking out any tiny pieces of lint, and checks the overall health of his wings. Even after she's finished the ritual, she continues the motion to further bond with her son.

As much as Peter wants to return to dreamland, he can't help but find the activity calming with mother so close. His whole body purrs as his mother holds him close and works through his down. He finds his wings naturally relaxing and opening up to the idea of a new day as his eyes open up. He tucks his wings out of the way and enjoys as his mother plays with his messy curls for just a bit longer.

"My little angel," Pepper hums. Her wings ruffle around her in solidarity. It's a nickname she rarely gets to use with Peter's father so on edge about their species, but she really does feel a special bond with them sharing this gift between them. Angels are rare enough. Two angels in a single family are statistically impossible.

"Good morning, mommy." His voice is barely a whisper, but he's cuddled close enough that Pepper hears it perfectly and can't help but smile in return.

"It's time to get ready for school. Aren't you excited for your first day?"

"No," the boy replies stubbornly. He'd much rather stay at home and play with his parents all day. There are already so many cool toys are home and his father always makes up the best stories. Plus he can't even begin to imagine nap time without his mother sharing the bed. How will he nap with a bunch of strange kids?

"You said the same thing with the angel playgroup," she reminds him.

Her face is sympathetic - she loves her boy so much - but she knows Peter just needs to be pushed sometimes. As nervous as he'd been for his angel classes, the boy had really shined when he'd gotten a chance to stretch his wings. "And once you went, you made friends and enjoyed all the games. You didn't even want to come home that night."

Peter begins to crawl out of bed a little grumpy that his mother's always right, though he'd never admit it. He just needs a few minutes to seethe and be resistant. Even if he did make lots of friends and really enjoys the angel group classes he takes weekly. He just didn't like going at first.

He even ignores his mother's hands as he gets to the floor. He doesn't need her assistance right now. Pepper has to admit the fluffing of his wings and his pouting face only make him more adorable than ever. She silently watches as her son's wings flutter a bit during the leap. They're still too small to make much difference in flight, but she's happy to see them reacting just the same.

"What do you want for breakfast? Since it's a special day today, you can have anything you want."

Peter thinks to himself for a few moments. He wonders if he can truly have _anything _he wants.

"Dinosaur chicken nuggets?" he whispers. When his mother nods, he just hops around his room, excited by his own idea.

"Dino nuggets! Dino nuggets! Dino nuggets! Dino nuggets!"

Pepper only watches with a proud smile on her face. She never would have thought of dinosaur chicken nuggets for breakfast herself, but that's one of the things she loves so much about Peter. He's always so happy and very creative. He always seems to think outside the box.

She hopes to herself that she finds a friend just like him today. Even with all the friends Peter's made at his angel classes, he's yet to find a best friend that he really clicks with or asked to bring over. She can feel it in her soul. The upcoming days will be much easier if he has someone to share it with.

* * *

Everything seemed good. The two parents had made so much progress in the span of the short sunrise.

Peter seemed to be all ready for school. He's stuffed to the brim with dinosaur chicken nuggets. He's clothed in his favorite feel-good outfit made of the softest textures that almost never irritate his skin. And his backpack is packed with all of his brand new school supplies that he got to pick out himself. He's even managed to pack his spider plushie in when he thinks his parents aren't looking. (Pepper did notice but doesn't say a thing.)

The small family had even managed to drive the entirety to the preschool in relative silence, as Peter spends the entire trip watching people through the car window and pointing out dogs whenever he managed to spot one. It's a game that Peter had created all by himself and his mother just loves to look at the dogs he finds, though his father is usually too busy driving to play along.

It wasn't until they arrive at the school that Peter's meltdown becomes inevitable. Seeing the other children on the playground is enough to send Peter into a mini spiral, tensing up his body as he holds onto the car seat for dear life. There's no way they can force him this way.

When his parents came around to let him out of the booster seat, Peter's emotions are already too high for his little body to properly process. It only takes one look into his mother's eyes before he starts sobbing, a sense of disappointment and fear flooding through him. He really doesn't want to let his mother down, but the day ahead has just become so daunting.

"Peter, honey. What's wrong?"

He can't get any words; his crying is just too powerful right now. Though, he's not sure what he would even say if he could get out the words. He isn't exactly sure why he's crying. He just feels overwhelmed with emotion. He doesn't like change and this day just feels like too much happening at once.

The boy tries to wipe his tears and force his little body to behave, but a few more dry jerks leak out anyways. He looks into his mom's eyes and reaches out towards her. She picks him up and holds him close, the beating of her heart calming him down a bit. "I'm sorry, mommy."

"It's okay, Peter. Everybody gets nervous sometimes. Even mommy and daddy get nervous sometimes. Right daddy?"

Peter peaks over his mom's shoulder to judge his father's expression. Pepper quickly adjusts her wings to let her husband fully into view.

Tony is standing straight and stiff as usual, hidden behind his pair of darkened glasses. The boy observes thoughtfully as his father gulps down his nerves and pulls off his sunglasses, letting his son look straight into his usually hidden face.

There's a darkened expression behind his father's eyes deep in his soul - a darkness Peter doesn't yet understand. But even more so, there's a powerful love that pulses between the two boys. Peter feels responsible for his father's happiness. There's a draw between them that gives Peter the utmost trust in his father.

"Of course. Everybody gets scared sometimes, Peter. We just have to force through it and be brave."

Peter listens to his father's words carefully. And when his father finishes speaking, he really stops and thinks about the words.

"Do you think you can be brave Peter? For me?" his mother asks.

He really does want to be just like his father. And if his father is telling him to be brave in fear of the unknown, he knows that everything will be okay. He can be brave for them.

They walk into the preschool together, his mom holding the boy's backpack in one hand and his hand in the other. Peter clings tightly to her side, but he's mostly calmed by the sight of his father walking behind them. He's thankful that his entire family is dropping him off today.

Peter walks into his first day of preschool with his wings held high, even if he can feel the bottom of his feathers trembling nervously.

* * *

The beginning of the day is slow. Peter isn't sure what to think, so he just goes with the flow of the room.

His teacher seems nice at least. He can't really pronounce her name, but she welcomes all the children with a kind expression and greeting as they enter. Peter doesn't feel singled out by her yet, which is helpful because he's doing his best to fly under the radar.

Peter is shown a cubby hole spot where he can store his backpack, extra change of clothes, and his lunch for later today. His parents help him put everything properly away before quickly saying goodbye. His mom kisses him on the forehead and tells him how much she loves him before slipping away to have some last minute words with the teacher.

The boy settles onto the carpet with a few other children, watching as his parents have a few last words with the teacher.

His parents wave goodbye from across the room one more time before they leave, but Peter's already too busy staring down at his cross-legged lap. There's too much going on right now and he's focusing on not crying as his parents leave.

Peter isn't sure of the other children yet, but he feels like it won't be a good start to his schooling if they catch him crying about his parents. None of the other children at his angel group ever complain about such silly things. He just needs to remain calm and brave for his father.

"Welcome everyone. Good morning. We're going to get started now, so I'll need everyone's attention."

Peter pulls his face from his lap. It's the first time he's really taken in the room around him. He's been so distracted with staying calm up until this point.

The room is bright. Almost too much so. It's decorated from floor to ceiling with posters and activities that seem educational in nature. There's something in every corner for Peter to focus on. And even though he's only begun reading this year, he's excited to take in every bit of information he can.

He also can't help but notice the large shelf of beginner's reading material that's calling out to him. His mom already spends the night sharing bedtime stories with him, but he's excited for a chance to read all on his own and explore new stories.

"We're going to start by going around and introducing ourselves. I want you all to share your name and a fact about yourself."

The children start introducing themselves, though Peter has to admit he's only half paying attention with so much going on. He stays quiet like a good student, quickly noticing how the teacher discourages them talking out of turn, but isn't really listening to the names of any of the other children. He barely even notices when it's his turn until the teacher points him out.

It's at this moment that Peter realizes something. As he looks at the children now staring in his direction, his wings feel more evident than ever. Unlike his angel play group that he's so used to attending, he is the only one sporting wings in the small classroom. And he's suddenly burdened with the weight of his difference.

"I'm Peter. Peter Parker Stark," he chokes out timidly. The attention on him is strong and focused as the other students give him their full attention. Peter can feel his wings tensing up to move. His instincts are trying to form a protective bubble around his face, but he fights back against them and holds his wings in place. He doesn't need any more attention than what he's already getting. Moving his wings will undoubtedly make this whole situation worse.

"And your fact, Peter?"

"I had chicken nuggets for breakfast?"

Even though the teacher doesn't seem very entertained, the rest of the classroom finds the sarcastic response hilarious. It was really the last thing any of them expected to come out of the little angel's mouth. It feels like every single student is laughing out loud at his response and the sudden noise is deafening to Peter. He has to fight to keep his hands or wings from covering his head in response.

Their positive response only makes little Peter feel worse about the day. His ears are still pounding and his heart pounds at the fact the other kids were laughing at him. He feels excluded and even more weird than before. His wings aren't the great blessing his mom always tells him about. They make him different. And right now, in this horrible moment, he just wants to hide them away.

* * *

The morning passes by relatively quickly. A few hours later, the teacher pairs together the children in smaller groups for some one on one interaction.

This is much easier for Peter, although he's still a bit jittery. His whole body is inward from the earlier day's events, making him much more introverted than usual. He's already spent the majority of the morning keeping his wings completely still - pushing down his body's natural reactions and instincts. He doesn't want to seem anymore out of place than he already does. The less he moves his wings, the less of a distraction he'll become. And the less of a laughing stock.

The boy keeps his hands tucked into his pockets to level his emotions. He's almost ready to snap at any moment - his tank is running on empty - so he's quite relieved when he's paired with one of the quieter children in the class. He just needs to stay calm a bit longer and he can recharge with a snack.

"Hi. I'm Ned," the other kid says as he joins the small table dedicated for reading.

Peter quickly looks Ned over. His earlier assumptions were correct. Ned seems shy. Peter's definitely appreciative that Ned speaks in a calm, quiet voice, compared to the rambunctiousness of his other classmates. And there's an air of easiness around the thick-boned boy. Peter's also grateful that Ned doesn't seem to be focusing on his wings, allowing him to rest the muscles for the first time that day.

"Hi, Ned. I'm Peter. It's nice to meet you."

The pair color their work pages in relative silence for a while. Peter can feel himself calming a bit as he focuses on staying within the lines. It's so much easier for him to focus on the task at hand instead of the mental clutter of his classmates around him and not having to worry about Ned. They can just play in silence.

"I wish my mom let me have chicken nuggets for breakfast," the strange boy whispers. The words are unexpected, causing Peter to clench up as he goes on the defensive.

"I don't usually get chicken nuggets. Mom just let me pick because it was a special day. Usually, I have pancakes or cereal."

"Still. Chicken nuggets. For breakfast. What can be better than that?"

Peter shakes his head. He can't believe the direction of this conversation. And how easy it is to talk to Ned. He doesn't have to be defensive. The boy isn't laughing at him because he's dumb. He actually thinks that Peter is funny. And he _actually_ thinks he's cool because he had chicken nuggets for breakfast.

"I don't know. Ice cream maybe?"

Ned's eyes widen, his mind truly blown from the implications of the answer. The biggest grin spreads across his face.

"Oh, man. Why didn't I think of that?"

Peter giggles a bit in response, his feathers ruffling behind him. He's really beginning to like this kid.

* * *

Peter is too relieved when the teacher announces that it's nap time. He's already feeling the exhaustion of a long day in his dreary eyes and even though lunch helped him recharge a bit, there's something about sleep that's always helped him clear his mind and recharge.

The children set up little cots around the room that seem comfy enough, even though he'd much rather be sleeping in his bed at home. It almost feels like a camping trip - similar to something his mom would set up in their living room. It's the closest thing Peter's ever had to a sleepover since he doesn't have too many friends.

The boys tuck themselves under small blankets the teachers handed out. Even though they're trying to stay silent under the cloak of ocean sounds playing, they can't help but giggle at the weirdness. As tired as they are, they aren't used to sleeping surrounded by so many other children and are too busy being social among themselves.

Peter considers grabbing his toy from his bag. A few of the other children seem to be doing the same including Ned, but he doesn't want to draw any attention to himself. Instead, he waits for his friend to return and they select two cots next to each other and matching superhero blankets. They settle down facing each other, both closing their eyes to the room around them.

Even as the room begins to fill with the sound of snoring, Peter remains fully awake as his heart pounds in his chest. He really is doing his best to sleep, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to slow his breathing, but every fiber of his being knows this isn't really his bedroom. There's so much he misses right now: the perfect dimness of his room and nightlight, the softness of his sheets against his hands, and most of all the comfort of his spider plushie held against his body. Everything is changing and he just can't keep up.

"Are you awake?" he whispers to Ned in the deafening silence when he can't keep quiet a second longer.

Ned's eyes flutter open groggily and Peter feels a bit guilty for waking his new friend, but Ned shakes head anyway. It doesn't matter if he was really sleeping or not. He's always ready to help a friend, even one he just met earlier that day.

"What's a matter?" he asks in the quietest tone possible. Peter can only just pick up the words in the quiet room.

"Can you keep a secret?"

Ned nods immediately. There's no hesitation and Peter senses that his new friend is actually a really good secret keeper.

"I can't sleep. Usually, I have my mom's wings or my spider to calm me. I miss her so much."

"Did you bring your spider today? I brought my toy. His name is Stitch."

Ned carefully lifts the blanket so that Peter can peek inside. There's a small blue alien plush tucked underneath Ned's arm, with long ears and a large nose. It's a bit weird looking and worn down, but also super cute.

"My spider's name is Spidey, but I left him in my backpack. I didn't want the other kids to know I brought a doll."

It's quiet for a few moments. They're already putting in a lot of effort to stay quiet to avoid waking the other children, so they collectively take a few moments to work through the problem together. It's too late for Peter to grab his toy now, even if he could live down the embarrassment of grabbing it in front of the other children. And he can't stand asking the teacher since it'll pull even more attention in his direction. He'll just have to live without it for a little bit even if he seriously needs this rest.

"Is there anything I can do?" Ned asks quietly.

Peter shakes his head solemnly. With his parents so far away and his spider tucked into his backpack, he's truly alone. He just has to get through it.

"Maybe you could move closer? And then we could share Stitch?"

Peter's mouth tenses in thought for a few moments as he considers the idea. Stitch isn't the same as his spider, but he could use all the help he could get right now. And he really does appreciate the offer his friend is making. He doesn't know if he could ever share his spider so easily. With the exhaustion so deep in his feathers, Peter will try about anything if it helps him sleep.

Being careful to not pinch his wings as he moves, Peter scooches over closer to his new friend. He's mostly off his own mat now - half of him on the floor with a few bits of him resting on Ned's mat. Only Peter's wings remain tucked behind him on his cot. They rest peacefully behind him.

Once settles in, Peter stretches out his hand and places it against the alien plushie that's now resting between them. They lay there together, each holding a side of the doll. Peter focuses his attention on his own hand as he tries to relax again, thankful for the effort his friend is putting out.

"Better?" Ned whispers faintly.

A yawn stretches Peter's face as he dips his head. With his new friend so close, he's feeling much calmer than before. He can barely keep his eyes open in the dimly lit room.

The teacher can only smile to herself as she watches the two boys fall asleep side by side.

* * *

Peter's mom was right that morning. The day turns out to be pretty good.

The day is long and exhausting. Peter's learning to deal with his new setting and classmates slowly. It got off to a pretty rocky start and he'd spent a good half of the day trying to act like someone he wasn't. But once he started to be himself and found someone similar in nature, Peter actually has a really good day. The second half is much more enjoyable with Ned at his side.

The boys spend the majority of the afternoon glued to each other's sides as they enjoy a variety of activities. There's an endless stream of jokes and stories shared between them. They just seem to fit so perfectly together. They're both quiet in nature and eager to behave in the classroom.

Peter's also very appreciative that Ned doesn't really ask about his wings or try to touch them like other children. He just treats him like a normal kid. Peter almost even forgets about them by the end of the day.

They're sitting together making a silly pretend world with their plushies when the school day comes to an end. They barely notice as the teacher starts encouraging them to pack up and helps the bus students head out to catch their bus. It'll be a few more moments until parents start arriving so the two boys continue to chat. They're in no rush to go home.

"Is your mom or dad dropping you off?"

"I'm not sure," Peter answers. "They both dropped me off this morning."

"I live really close. Maybe you could come watch a movie one day since you've never seen Lilo and Stitch?"

Peter smiles. Although he's really tired from all the new things he's experienced today, that really sound awesome.

The boys pack their bags side by side and sit calmly as they wait to be picked up. They make secret plans to work on a secret handshake tomorrow, which gives Peter some hope for the next day. Maybe he can even think up some ideas tonight to impress Ned.

When Ned's mom arrives first, Ned quickly takes the chance to introduce her to his new friend Peter. She's also very kind and welcoming, seconding that Peter should come to visit sometime soon, but she does seem to hover her eyes on Peter's wings for a bit too long for his liking. Peter shakes it off since it's something he's pretty used to and gives Ned a quick hug goodbye. Peter hopes that another day he can introduce Ned to his mom too.

Peter's mom arrives not much later. It doesn't seem like his dad has come too, but Peter embraces his mother just the same. The classroom is mostly empty, so he runs right into her and hugs her leg tightly. Their wings ruffle instinctively as they hold each other so close, embracing each other's touch lovingly.

"I missed you, mommy."

Pepper wraps her wings around her little boy. As much as she didn't want to admit it - she had to stay strong for Peter's sake - this day has been hard on her too. She's thrilled to be taking him home now. She can cook dinner with him sitting on the counter as he tells her all about his day. But, there's just one thing she needs to know now.

"Did you make any friends today?" she asks hopefully as they head out to the car. Pepper's holding her breath, hopeful that after such a surely rough start that her son has at least found someone to spend his preschool days with. She hopes so bad for his happiness. She'll always be here for him, but boy needs a friend his own age to share secrets with.

Peter holds his hand in hers, still unwilling to separate from his mother's side as he replies joyfully. His wings fluff up proudly as he responds.

"Only one, but he's a really good friend."


	2. Chapter 2

School passes by so much quicker than the young boy could have ever expected.

The friendship between him and Ned continues to flourish. The two boys become inseparable during school time, despite the teacher's best efforts to get them to spend time with the other kids.

Their teacher thinks they need to branch out and experience being social with many different people. She warns Peter's parents numerous times through phone calls that he needs to make friends with the other children as well - not just the one person he really enjoys. That he won't develop right if he continues on this path.

(Pepper thinks she's a special brand of stupid and can barely keep on a polite face when they share a room. Peter's never had a best friend before, let alone someone to keep him busy at school. But Pepper doesn't want to cause trouble with the school, so she lets her husband deal with the woman instead.)

Peter and Ned spend nearly every minute of their school days together - whenever the teacher isn't trying to force them apart - which helps lower Peter's anxiety levels. His mom notices Peter stimming less often and more excited to try new things - there's no longer as many holes being chewed into his shirt collar or ripped nails from nail-biting. She's spent less time hovering over him, taking less time to make sure he isn't hurting himself as he stares into space.

She also finds that Peter is accepting changes in his life much easier now. They aren't perfect yet, but when there are small changes in his daily routine, he's more accepting because his brain is busy with other things. She barely notices this until one day, she wants to make a stop on the way home, and there's no meltdown or panic on her end.

She's driven half way home when she notices that Peter didn't have his usual meltdown from the store lights and surrounding chatter. He was too distracted the entire time explaining the superhero story he'd created with Ned earlier that day. Pepper has to admit she sheds a single small victory tour in the front seat.

Pepper finally feels like a real mom who knows what she's doing - she's succeeding in parenting the young child that she loves so much when she's failed time and time again. It was never anyone's fault that Peter has difficulties that others don't, but difficult all the same. She hates admitting that she sometimes fails - unknowing until Peter breaks down from sensory overload. She's dedicated to making a better life for Peter - they just need to navigate the world together.

Pepper needs to know she's doing something right sometimes, and feel like she's actually the mother Peter deserves. It's small victories like this that are setting Peter up for a better, brighter future.

Ned's mom is understanding of Pepper's pleas and stray tears when she shares her experience and why she's so thankful for them being friends.

Ned Leeds, while not diagnosed on the autism spectrum like Peter very early on, is still a very shy and unspoken child. He prefers nerdier quiet activities and doesn't seem too willing to make friends in public - which is surprising for the moms to hear when they learn how quickly their two sons bonded. How quickly Ned reached out when he saw the nervous boy scared without his toy and unable to sleep without the help of a friend.

Ned has a heart of gold from day one. The spirit of a true angel, despite his lack of wings or halo. Pepper is beyond thankful that the Leeds have answered Pepper's nightly prayers. Peter will no longer experience life in a bubble, separated from the people around him. There will be a circle of family around him: biological and not.

Ned Leeds ignites a new spirit in Peter. He ignites a flame powerful and strong. The two will be superheroes one day. They will fight the world together.

Just like his mother, Peter is building his own family - a support system Pepper knows he will definitely need in the future. The curse thrust upon him is large, the feathers that destine him to be one the best one day also curse him to stand out among a crowd. There will be many times that others bully him for being different, use him for the status of his wings, and just plain hate him for no reason. Let alone the responsibility his burden will carry as he tries to live a normal life.

Pepper won't always be here to support her. One day she's going to experience her own Calling - whether it be saving her husband, son, or something greater - and she just hopes she will get as much time as possible with her son before that day. The likeliness of her making it out alive after her self sacrifice is slim to none - she knows that. All angels know feel that pain.

And when the day finally comes where she has to leave her son and loving husband, Pepper is thankful that her son will be surrounded by people that love him - people that will forever keep Peter safe. A loving father and husband, his best friend and platonic soulmate, and his uncle Happy.

* * *

Peter is overjoyed to have his first sleepover. It only makes it better that he gets to experience it with his best friend in the whole wide world.

It's being held in their penthouse at Stark Tower, the special floor decorated for when they're staying in town for Stark Industries related business. They have a few homes spread across New York and a very different beach house in Miami, but this house is closest to the school and Ned's apartment, so the penthouse has become one of the places Peter spends most often at.

His bedroom here is smaller than his other homes, but there's a part of Peter that appreciate the space more. It's like the walls are hugging him - the perfect width to keep echos at bay. Their luxurious Summer home and quiet Upstate mansions are nice, but they aren't him. This room feels the most like _Peter. _It feels most like home.

Peter and his mom have set up the living room as a sleeping room for the special occasion. There's a tent set up in the middle of the space for them to camp out in. This was she can keep a better eye on them, making sure they don't spend too long up and being quickly available in case there are any problems.

Pepper has to admit she's excited too. She spent the majority of the morning preparing special fingers foods for the boys - Peter much prefers snacking to actual meals - but she also thought this would be the funniest meal she could make for the growing picky boys. She's even purchased a few new Lego sets for the boys to enjoy after dinner, in case they're too jittery to sit through a whole movie.

Spread across the living room floor is an array of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. She's picked the ones the knows Peter enjoys most washed only with hypo allergic laundry softener. There's also a stack of blankets for Ned since she doesn't know what kind of blankets he prefers. Pepper has even tucked her son's favorite spider plush into the makeshift fort.

(Peter should be pretty tired anyway since he always has flight classes on Tuesday nights. Pepper doesn't expect a late night with Peter so tired, but it doesn't hurt to make sure everything is properly prepared for a smooth night. She is taking responsibility for someone else's child, after all.)

Ned is the first to arrive at the penthouse suite. Pepper greets him and his mother from the elevator, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and a quick tour of the suite. Ned seems excited by the idea of the tent set up in the living room and the size of the house. His mother is also a bit impressed since she reminds her son not to break anything or cause trouble, but Pepper assures them that they're no trouble at all. There's nothing in here that can't be replaced.

Pepper also explains that Tony is currently downstairs in the lab, and Ned may or may not see him. The mom's pretty used to her her husband's absence during the evenings. As long as he shows up on time for bed and prioritizes Peter, she understands that he has a lot of work to do. She does most of the stay at home typical parenting stuff.

After a quick cup of tea, Mrs. Leeds heads out for the night. She gives Ned a big kiss on the forehead and reminds him how much she loves him. Then a quick hug to Pepper and she's gone. Ned doesn't seem stressed one bit, even with his friend gone. He just settles into the living room with a Star Wars movie as he waits for Peter to come home.

Pepper settles down on the couch with Ned for a while. She keeps a close eye on him to make sure he's settling in well, but he's perfectly fine. Just a little awkward without his friend by his side, but he's a perfectly polite well-adjusted child. She's barely watching the movie though and eventually finds her eyes starting to close from a long day's preparations.

"Mrs. Stark, can I ask you a question?"

The mom laughs at his question, and his proper use of her name as her eyes snap open, but she wants him to feel welcome in her home, so she gives him the chance to speak up without making a joke like her husband definitely would. "Of course, honey. Is there something I can get you?."

He shakes his head quickly but then fidgets for a few moments with his thumbs. She can tell there's something he wants to ask but knows he may need a push. Something is clearly bothering him, and Pepper feels responsible for him tonight. There's even an ounce of guilt for putting him in this situation where he has to ask for something he needs.

"You can ask me anything, sweetie. I promise I won't get mad."

"Is it okay if I ask Peter about his wings? I don't want to upset him. I've never really mentioned them before because I didn't want to be rude and I see how the other kids in class try to touch them sometimes and it upsets him and I don't want to upset him but I just have questions. Mom says questions are okay sometimes. But I just wanted to be sure."

A smile spreads across the mom's face as she listens to Ned babble out the words. They come out at such a quick speed that she can barely hear them, but she manages to process them anyway. She's relieved to learn that Ned is perfectly fine right now; he's just trying to be as politely as possible as usual. A jolt of pride rushes through her at Ned's curiosity.

And she can't really blame the young boy for having questions or wanting to touch his wings - they are quite a sight to behold. Pepper's still sure that Tony wouldn't have noticed her without her wings, even though it's her personality that he fell in love with.

There are so few angels within the population, and even fewer reliable studies for the general public to learn from. She'd much instead people ask questions in a friendly curious way than make bold assumptions. She's just never seen someone be so upfront and polite about it before.

"It varies. Not everyone feels comfortable talking about it, but you'll never know unless you ask. I can answer any questions you have though."

Ned shakes his head. That would be weird. "I'll just ask Peter tonight. If that's okay."

"Of course you can ask Peter. He's your best friend, right?"

"The bestest friend in the whole wide world."

"Then you should ask him when he gets home. He'll be pretty tired from flight school, but I'm sure he won't mind if you ask after dinner."

"Thank you, Miss Pepper."

* * *

The boys are tucked into the safety of the sofa when Ned finally decides to ask.

"Peter, what's flight school like?"

Peter feels a bit shocked by the question, but not in an uncomfortable way. Just in an odd and unexpected way.

Ned's never seemed interested in his wings before, or the stories involved with his angel heritage. And Peter's been pretty appreciative for his friend's nonchalant attitude when he's constantly singled out for his feathers. The other kids are always touching him without his consent and trying to be his friend, only doing so because of his physical appearance.

He doesn't have to worry about that with Ned. The boy likes him for who he is, not for the wings that bless his backside. Any questions he has come from a place of pure curiosity. Peter feels completely comfortable answering them right now, even if he's pretty tired.

"It's fine. It's boring, but the other kids are okay."

"What do you do there?"

Peter cuddles further into the pillows and Ned's side, clutching his spider plushie closely. His wings are tired and aching, resting on the couch behind him, but the plush surroundings give him the comfort he needs.

There's not really anything exciting about flight classes. Or the other gifted children that attend. Peter isn't that special after all, besides the wings that he's inherited from his mom. At least he doesn't feel any more unique or deserving than the other children.

Peter's perfectly aware that not all angels can even afford the special classes - they're just a side effect of his parent's money. A way for him to get the best possible education.

He's very lucky for the way his parents care for him. The least he can do is be thankful and attend his classes with the least amount of complaints. Not to add that he's excited to learn to fly.

The classes mostly just consist of wing exercises to help develop the muscles and prepare him to fly one day. That's why he usually comes home so tired. It's the physical equivalent of taking a step class biweekly, even with the teacher doing her best to keep attitudes up and the games fun.

There's also the rare lesson on wing care, angel history, and information about the Calling he'll be expected to perform one day, but the point is to make sure his wings are properly worked out.

Wing muscles that aren't worked can lose the ability to properly fly. It has become a real problem over the last few years, mostly in the lower economic levels. Society has worked out social services to keep each angel to the best of their potential, but many still don't have the privileged for proper care and lessons.

Peter can't wait to learn to fly - he's always so impressed when his mother does so. She's so elegant in her movements, with strong wingbeats that power her through the sky. He's only seen her fly a few times, but he wants to be just like her some day.

"Wing exercises. Wing care. They teach us to fly too, but I'm not very good yet."

Ned nods to himself. He still has many questions, but he doesn't want to bother Peter anymore than he already has. He knows how easily overwhelmed his friend can get, and the boy already seems really exhausted from his class. He has one last thing on his mind though.

"So you're gonna like save someone one day? Like a real life superhero?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"And your mom too?"

"Yeah."

"That's kinda really scary."

Peter's never really dwelled on his Calling before. He's been taught about his purpose - the destiny he was blessed with and will one day fulfill - but he's never really taken the chance to think about how difficult it may be. Is he the type of person that could go all out to keep somebody else safe? To save their life?

The thought is a lot for a boy his age to handle. Peter's still only four years old - edging on five in a few month's time - but he's definitely too young to be thinking in terms of sacrifice. There's a lot of pressure being thrust upon him, especially for something he can't control, for something that's been forced on him since his birth.

But when Peter thinks strongly about his sacrifice, he knows he might not have a choice deep down. He loves his best friend Ned. Enough that he would definitely do anything in his power to keep him safe.

_Yeah. He'd definitely sacrifice himself to save Ned._

He would also say the same about his mom and dad. He owes them the world. And maybe even his grandparents on his mom's side. And his Aunt May, who just happens to be his favorite aunt of all time.

The boys sit in comfortable silence as the movie plays on. Star Wars - Peter's all-time favorite movie. They munch on the occasion snack quietly as the movie drains on in the background, providing Peter some distraction as he ponders on his future and his best friend's words.

"Do you want to touch 'em?"

Ned watches the boy through narrowed eyes for only a few moments before jumping up with an excited expression on his face. Blankets fly all around the room. "Yeah!"

Peter pulls himself forward to make enough room behind him for Ned to slip behind. His eyes are groggy, and he can feel the blood still pumping in his tired wings, but he's okay with letting Ned touch them for a few moments. He wants to share himself with his friend. _They already share all their other secrets anyway._

"Just be careful," he whispers as Ned carefully touches his wings.

Peter sighs and relaxes as Ned sticks his fingers through the down of his wings. Peter's down is soft and fluffy, like nothing Ned has ever felt before. Even the softest blankets and fluffiest dogs don't match the way the feathers feel between his fingers.

It's a bit ticklish to Peter but feels sensational overall. It's so different than when his mom runs his fingers through his down. There's more of a mother-son relationship with that.

This is completely different. This is between two close friends. He trusts Ned. And at this point, he knows Ned accepts him for who he is. He will never have to worry about Ned hating him for his destiny, or his Calling, or being able to fly.

A rush of happiness and safety rushes through Peter's body. The massage, however so simple in nature, is Heaven on Earth for Peter. Every bit of him is relaxing at his friend's touch. His eyes begin to droop shut as the exhaustion of the day finally sets in.

Pepper walks in later that night to tuck the boys into bed but finds them snoring on the couch side by side instead. Her son's wings are spread out lazily across the sofa. She's surprised to see half of Ned tucked underneath her son's right wing.

The mom smiles gratefully. She'll do whatever it takes to keep these boys safe.

* * *

It isn't long before Pepper wakes up the boys with the smell of freshly baked pancakes and carts them off to school. They're adorable and sweet all morning: perfect angels for the entire ride.

School passes by quickly with them laughing alongside each other. They do some writing practice in the early morning and learn about the weather after that. Peter's fascinated with the science side of things, even if the level of learning is very fundamental at best. But he's thirsty to learn more.

Peter's stomach is grumbling by the time lunch rolls around. This day seems longer than most, even with his best friend by his side, and he really needs to recharge with some food.

The boys grab their lunches from their bags and take a seat next to each other at the small table. This particular table is a bit crowded today, but Peter focuses his senses on his best friend's lunch instead of the noise of his classmates, leaving his head dipped down as he eats. He keeps his wings wrapped around his body to muffle out the worst of the noise.

Peter's halfway through his ham and cheese sandwich when his best friend taps him on the wings. The motion jostles him for a second, but he quickly finds himself relaxing to the touch and moves to share a smile with him.

"Can I have some Doritos?"

Peter puts his sandwich back down on the table, eyeing Ned's Star Wars lunch box carefully, scanning the contents for anything good. Peter's Doritos are the prize jewel of his lunch, the only unhealthy item his mother allows in him to have. A special treat for only him.

"Watcha got to trade?"

"This fruit salad my mom made. It's really good."

Peter squints at him suspiciously. The fruit looks good, but isn't good enough for Doritos. Even for Ned.

"Come on man. My mom never lets me have chips. Please."

Ned looks at him with the most enormous puppy dog eyes - eyes so large that they almost rival the look that Peter has created to use on his dad. There's no was he could possibly resist his friend when he acts like this.

"Fine! You win! We can share."

The boys spread out the snacks in between them as they continue finishing their sandwiches. Ned only mildly mocks the way Peter likes his sandwiches squished flat and with extra pickles, but he has no ground to stand on because Ned likes pineapple on his pizza, and everyone knows that's the most disgusting thing in the world.

Peter's picky as he picks through bits of the fruit salad. He knows he doesn't like pears, but luckily there's none the grainy poor man's fruit within the salad. Ned's mom has good fruit tastes.

"What's this?" he asks as he pulls out a small oddly cut red fruit with black dots on it.

Ned furrows his eyes. "That's a strawberry. You've never had a strawberry before?"

Peter shakes his head as he smells the tiny piece of fruit. It smells sweet and yummy. Just like something Peter would love, but he doesn't really stop to dwell on it too much. "I don't think my mom ever buys these."

"Aww man. You should try it. It's like my favorite fruit of all time."

"Are berries even fruit?"

"Just try it butthead."

Peter slowly lowers the strawberry into his mouth and chews it cautiously. It's sweet and squishy, just like his friend described. It's actually _really _good, and he quickly grabs more, picking them all from the fruit salad and popping them into his mouth as quickly as possible.

"I wonder why your mom never buys them."

Peter just shrugs as he finishes the last few bits of the fruit from the salad.

It isn't long before Peter starts withdrawing from lunch again. His belly is beginning to ache, and he doesn't feel hungry anymore, though it's completely possible that the classroom is too loud and he's beginning to experience overload. That happens sometimes. He generally has to move to a quiet room to calm down, but sometimes if he forces himself really hard with his eyes closed, he can concentrate on staying calm.

"Are you gonna finish the rest of the Doritos?"

Peter shakes his head, but the motion sends a wave of nausea through his stomach. He leans forward to rest his head on his folded arms and takes deep breaths, trying to push the pukey feeling back down.

He can somewhat hear what sounds like Ned crunching on the chips in the background, but Peter's too busy trying to push everything out and concentrate on keeping his lunch down. He can't bear to throw up in front of all the other children. He's still pretty traumatized from when another kid puked a few months ago.

And yet he can't find the push he needs to get up and go to the bathroom. He doesn't want any attention being drawn to him when he crosses the room, the chance for the teacher to call him out when he should be eating his lunch.

Peter hates being singled out, more than anything in the world. He does his absolute best to behave and fly under the radar. To be the good boy his mom expects him to be

Even now, as he can feel the panic setting in, Peter is resistant to say anything or ask his teacher for help. He's starting to choke, air forcing through himself in the form of sharp wheezes. His throat feels weird, tingly and tight as it closes in on itself.

There's something freaking him out, a panicky struggle as he tries to force the air into his lungs. But he can't get the air to work in his lungs. He feels himself suffocating.

He knows something is wrong when his wings start to ache, the skin on them tight over the developing muscles. They're pulling against his back, warning him that something is wrong. He needs help. Now.

He looks up, trying to find Ned to ask him for help. There's a struggle, even though he remembers his friend should be right beside him. He can't focus his eyes to find him. He can't think straight. Can't find the words in his throat to ask for the help he so desperately needs.

He can hear his friend shouting for a teacher. Peter's swaying on his feet as he tries to stand and let the teacher know that everything will be okay, but he can't. He can barely even work out the words his best friend is saying, let alone the reaction of the room around him.

The last thing Peter remembers is his hands gripping at his own throat as his body falls against the ground behind him, his wings barely cushioning the fall as his arm bangs against a table behind him.

* * *

The first thing Peter registers is a beeping sound. It's slow - probably too slow for what should be his heartbeat since the boy has learned that angels have higher heartbeats than normal unblessed humans. Even then, the heartbeat he hears doesn't feel right. It couldn't possibly be his.

He's listening to the own beating of his heartbeat, but all he can feel is the beating his body has taken. The blood pounds in his ears as he tries to recall what happened earlier that day.

The second sensation that comes over him is the aching of his skin and wings. The tips of his body feel numb - his fingers, toes, and wing tips. The same tingling makes him sleepy, and he has to fight against the drowsiness as he tries to wake up.

There's an aching over the skin of his lips and throat where the skin was swollen in his panic. They're dry and crackled - too beyond repair for the liquid being pumped through his veins to fix.

He's too woozy to tell, but there's a further damage underneath, some sort of strong drug that's still threatening to pull him under. He's tired, even more tired than his late night angel classes usually leave him.

He moans. There's no exact thing he's trying to say, but he knows what the general wish is. He's calling for his parents - a feral instinct from a scared child. He needs to be comforted.

"Peter baby? Are you waking up?"

He isn't sure where the voice is coming from. He can barely even recognize if the voice is a man or woman, but he can feel himself being pulled towards it anyways. The sound is comforting and safe. He can feel it pulling him away from the fuzziness in his mind. He's waking up.

"Mmmmm..."

There's a sigh of relief around him from numerous people. An air of pain and tension is released.

The final sense to work through him is the scent of his mother: fresh and soft. She's there, holding his hand and holding her wings around him protectively. She's crying - he can hear the chokes working through her. There's a slight bit of guilt from making his mom cry, but the pull of the drugs pushes the blame back down.

"Peter, baby. I'm here. Your momma is here."

When he opens his eyes groggily, he has to blink a few times to force out the bright lights. They're dimmed like his room usually is, but still a bit higher than he's used to. Still too strong for his sensitive eyes.

His mother notices his reaction immediately and adjusts her wings above the tired boy, blocking the phosphorescent ceiling lights from reaching Peter. The light filters gently through her skin and delicate feathers.

She strokes his face delicately, and Peter can't help but lean into his mother's touch. It's just what he needs to feel right now. His face still feels achy and warm. But his mom is cool to the touch.

"What happened mom?" he whispers. The words are barely audible through his scratchy ripped throat, but she happens to catch them anyway.

"You had an allergic reaction, babe. Your throat swelled up and you passed out. We're at the hospital now."

"We were really scared that we'd lose you," his father adds in the background, his voice is broken and shaky. It's clear his father has been crying for a while - something he's never seen happen before. It sends a wave of fear through him for his dad to be so clearly shaken.

"But you're going to be okay. We're so happy to see that you're okay."

Peter tries to push himself up on the bed to work his body more towards his mother's body. His mother is safe and warm. He just needs to get closer to her so that he can feel better, but he's finding it difficult with his body not cooperating. It doesn't want to listen to what he's trying to do.

"Baby stop. Tell me what you need, and I'll help you."

"Mom."

"I'm here baby boy. Everything's going to be okay."

"Home..."

"We'll go home soon. I promise. Just get some sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up."

* * *

Peter returns with a foggy mind and a whole jumble of confusing thoughts.

As his eyes open and battle the light of his room, there's a lost train of thoughts in his mind. The last place he remembers being in the hospital or one of his father's many med-bays, but even then the thought is barely there. Like a lost story read to him as a baby.

He has to concentrate really hard on the memory of the hospital room, but he definitely can remember his parent's sadness from when he woke up the first time. The tears in his mother's eyes feel fresh and painful.

Even further back, though much more clear, he can remember sitting at the table with his best friend during school time. He remembers the snacks they shared between them. And finally, he remembers being sick in the middle of his classroom with everyone watching.

The memories are clear in his mind, in high definition like he's watching it on his television. The nauseousness that had worked through his body so quickly, the gasping for air as his throat tightened forcefully, the way his fingernails ripped at his neck desperately needing air, and the way his wings flailed out screaming for help.

There's a vague memory of him smacking his friend with the edge of his wing buried somewhere in the chaos. Hopefully, he didn't hurt his friend too badly. He would never want to hurt Ned.

Peter pushes himself up from his bead, groggily tugging the blankets aside. His wings feed achy and stiff from sleeping on them so long - he isn't used to sleeping on his back - but they should be fine as long as he does his daily stretches later that day

At least there's light happiness that floats through him, probably keeping him from feeling the full front of his injuries since he remembered feeling a lot different last time he awoke. Now only his arm and throat feels dull.

The blankets don't move too easily. At least not as easily as they usually do. They seem heavy like they're bolted down to his bedside. Peter begins to breathe heavily for a few moments as the bed suffocates him. He doesn't understand why his bed is holding him for ransom, but he feels like he's choking.

But then his wings stretch out underneath him. The boy fights even harder to get free as he uses the force of his wings to free him. With himself uncovered, he takes a few steadying breaths to fill his lungs with air.

Looking at his body now, things click into place. The blanket isn't heavier or bolted to his bed. It's just harder to move with the way his arm is attached to his body.

There's wrapping around his right wrist. The one that is aching dully. There's also a sling that's keeping his arm attached firmly to his stomach, which explains why it wasn't able to move his blanket with his usual arm.

At least the boy isn't choking anymore - or having a meltdown as his counselor calls it. He's in a much better headspace now. Things seem brighter, despite the throbbing in his arm.

Peter lets his legs fall off the side of the bed as he tries to figure out the time of day. The room's too dark for him to read his clock, but the stars behind his window give him some idea. It's night time.

He knows he should be sleeping for school the next day - his mom doesn't like it when he stays up this late if he has school the next day - but he can't find the will to return to his bed. He can barely walk, but the young boy knows he has to pee and is determined not to have another accident. He's still whirling from his last accident a few months ago and has to prove he's a big boy now.

It takes him a bit of effort to make it to the bathroom attached to his room, but he uses the walls to keep himself upright as he walks. The boy makes a bit of a mess as he does his best to pee with his arm stuck in the sling, but nothing really works out. The majority of it barely makes the bowl.

Of course, Peter had to break his right hand. Parker Parker Stark luck is the worst thing ever.

He debates trying to clean up the mess he's made himself with toilet paper but knows his mom usually uses chemicals when she cleans the bathroom. Chemicals a young child like him doesn't have access too. And he's not even sure he could do it right now with the way the walls are spinning.

Peter will have to ask for his mom's help later, which is probably for the best anyways. It's a miracle he's even made it this far. He just hopes she won't be too angry with him.

He wedges his door open slowly, letting the light from the hallway slit into his room. His parents always keep the hallway light on at night, in case he needs to find them in the middle of the night, so hopefully, they won't mind being woken up by him.

Peter boy peaks his eye into the open door of his parent's room, but they don't seem to be in there, so he wanders down the hallway instead towards the kitchen instead.

"So you're saying this is my fault?"

The shouting tone of his mother makes him stop in his tracks. His parents don't fight too often, but he absolutely hates it when they do. He cannot move another step when he hears them raise their voices.

"No. I'm just saying we should have seen it coming. We could have done something. We could have warned Ned's mom, or the teacher, or Peter."

"There's no way we could have known. You don't usually inherit food allergies. And we never buy them because you know I can't eat them."

"He inherited everything else from you."

"Excuse me?"

There's quiet for a few seconds. Peter isn't sure if they're finished, but he hopes it'll end soon. He debates entering the room now that it's quiet, but the silence doesn't last long enough.

Peter sticks his hands over his ears, but that only blocks out the sounds. It doesn't block out the way his mind spins from his father's words. And it definitely doesn't block out the sadness inside him.

He can't be entirely sure, but was his dad referring to the way they're both blessed? The wings that they share? It's the only noticeable feature shared between them, considering how his mother is always telling him how much he looks like his dad. And how smart he is - exactly like his dad.

"That's not what I meant. You know that. I just... worry. I can't help it."

The boy can hear the way his mother's wings flutter away from Tony as she jumps away from his touch. Peter's wings tingle in response, something deep within him willing him to go and help his mother, but he's too afraid to do anything. He just hides behind the corner where he can't be seen.

"Come on, Pep. Don't do this to me. You know I love every part of you."

"I know, Tony. I love you too. I just think you should stay out here tonight. Or maybe your lab. I'm gonna go watch Peter. He'll be waking up any moment now."

There's a bit of panic inside Peter as his mom rounds the corner. He should be in bed; not listening in on his parent's private conversation. He'll surely get in trouble if he's caught.

Pepper shows no anger as she finds him standing in the hallway, his arm held awkwardly to his chest. Tears rim his eyes from his overloading emotions, still upset at the fact his that father seems to be so angry with their wings. The thing that he shares most with his mom is somehow the object of his father's hatred.

Pity fills his mother's eyes. "Peter. Honey. Are you okay? I'm so sorry. We were only grabbing coffee for a few moments. We didn't mean to leave you alone."

A few stray tears run down the child's face. "I feel funny."

She holds him close to her leg, letting him cuddle his face into her scent and wipe his tears on her clothes. She's safe and warm. It immediately helps calm his beating chest. "Oh buddy. I'm sorry. It's the medicine."

He can already feel his sadness fading away from his mom's comforting words, at least until she wraps her wings around his body in her usual protective bubble. A usually comforting gesture for Peter, but something about it has turned sour.

He keeps his wings tucked tightly into his body, which works well since he's still kind of groggy and they feel weird, but mostly because he wants to seem as human as possible to gain his father's approval.

Pepper starts leading him back to his room when she notices how he's swaying on his feet.

"We should probably get you back to bed. It'll help your body heal quicker. Do you have to use the washroom before we go to bed?"

Peter shakes his head. There's a tone of fright and shame in his voice as he speaks. "I got up to pee, but I missed it. A lot. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, Peter. It must have been hard with your arm in the sling to aim. You might have to pee like a girl for a while though, buddy."

(There's an offended snort from Tony in the background at the suggestion. Pepper ignores it. She's not going to encourage his behavior with a smart retort. Even if he deserves it.)

The little boy is yawning by the time they make it back to his room. The few limited moments of interaction has already tuckered him out beyond his usual day's work. Listening to his parents shouting match also didn't do his tired body any favors.

He just needs lots of sleep right now. And then maybe a bowl of cereal when he wakes up.

Yet when he's tucked in and wished goodnight by his mom, there's still a panging worry inside of Peter. His father's words are bouncing around his head, making him doubt himself.

He can't help but wonder if his father would love him more if he hadn't been born with a Calling. If he wasn't special like his mom, would his father love him more or less? Would he love his mom less if she wasn't an angel?

He can act less angel, especially if it'll make his father love him more. And make him worry less.

Peter can be exactly what his dad wants from him. He can be normal.


	3. Chapter 3

Wounds heal. Bodies heal.

A small scratch on a crying boy's knee can be easily healed by a mother's love. Booboos are easier to get past. Little Peter can move on so easily from cuts and scrapes from playground mishaps. They only take a kiss from his mother and a juice pop as a distraction.

Bigger wounds happen as he grows and matures. His most recent injury proves to be the most difficult yet. He breaks his write when he falls off the bench during an allergic reaction. A hairline fracture that makes the world difficult to operate. It leaves a dull ache under his thick itchy cast. The medicine leaves him in a constant whooze that makes focusing on school nearly impossible. Just another thing he can't do right.

There's a deeper wound inside Peter. An emotional wound that modern medicine and physical therapy can't help. While his wings return to their normal texture, the emotional worry inside the boy doesn't fade. He feels like a dark cloud is stuck drifting over him.

His mom is one and the same. And that's apparently something to be ashamed of. He should have been born human.

Physical wounds heal. Emotional wounds never close up.

When Peter is seven-years-old, his father leaves on a very important business trip and doesn't come back. The boy barely notices at first. He's so used to delays when it comes to his father's business. He spends long hours in his office and lab, usually not returning until after Peter is tucked in for bed. Once Peter notices the sadness in his mother's expression, it realizes that something isn't right.

The boy feels more at ease when his father is away. The first few days of his father's trip are celebrated. He has a sleepover with his best friend, his wings stretch out as much as he wants, and practices his flying skills as he leaps across the furniture. He's the happiest he's been in a long time.

There's no longer any hiding of his identity, or tucking his wings in waywardly at the dinner table, or stuttering over his words as his mind double thinks everything he says. He's a good and smart little boy.

Peter feels like he's living a double life. There's the side of him that feels natural and giving. The side that feels right - the side he finds himself being around the two people he loves most. His mother - the only one he'll ever feel understands him - and his best friend, Ned.

And then there's the side he knows he has to be. The side his dad has forced him to present through his opinions and misplaced worry. He needs to put up a shield and hide from his upcoming destiny because even though Peter's only seven-years-old, he understands his destiny is something that will likely get him killed. He has such a big destiny ahead of him.

He thinks about his mother and how much he loves her. The boy imagines a world without her. A world where she's fulfilled her Calling and saved someone worth saving. She'll become a hero and earn her halo, but at the same time, loses the life she's made. The little broken family that she's worked so hard to stitch back together. Everyone she's ever loved.

He understands his father's worry because there's no way the little boy can imagine a world without his mother. And if that's the same panic and worry swirling within his father, he knows that's truly no way to live. Peter only has to worry about losing his mother, but his dad has two people in his life to fear losing. His beautiful wife and his genius son.

It's a lot for a little boy to handle. It's too much for any child to ever think about, but disappointing his father creates the heaviest weight of all. Becoming something against his father's wishes is the biggest burden the young man will ever experience.

That's why he doesn't mind when his father's absence. There's a peacefulness in his house while he doesn't have to worry about the way he tucks his wings. His breathing becomes less heavy, his stutter lessens up, and he finds himself no longer overthinking every little thing he does.

It's not a long break from the worry. Nothing lasts forever. He finds himself preparing for his father's return and practices masking his wings in the mirror, he can feel the sadness beginning to creep into his chest. His father will be returning soon. He needs to appear as human as possible.

His father doesn't return on time. The days pass and his wings continue to unwind, the house open and free. He loves his father so much, but he can be himself without the man's looming presence. He's living his life to the fullest.

That might be why he feels so guilty. Something happened to his father, and yet, Peter's at home jumping from sofa to sofa like nothing is wrong. He's enjoying his newfound freedom with his mother working and his father far away.

There's a spark lighting inside of the little angel, something spiritual drawing him towards his father's soul. A small swirling cloud inside Peter that knows his father is his Calling - that one day he will save the life of the great and powerful Tony Stark - but his body is too small and inexperienced to read his instincts. He doesn't know anything about the weight he's being forced to carry on his shoulders.

There's the same guilt swirling within his mother. He finds her one night, sobbing in her bed with her wings tucked around her own body in desperation. There's no one here to push his way through and relax her - Tony's been gone for three weeks. Her soulmate is lost.

Peter can't stand the sound of his mother's nightly sobs. She stays strong during the day and Peter hopes she's feeling better with the passage of time, but when the darkness rolls over the city and their home, he finds himself covering his wings over his ears in an attempt to hide from his mother's pain and suffering. It's torture for him.

One night, when he can no longer stand the sound of his mother crying through the walls, he crawls into his mother's bed and does his best to comfort her. He doesn't say a word, only tucks himself along his mother's side, nuzzles against the bubble of her wings, and runs his fingers through her feathers.

"I'm sorry," Pepper says with a sniffle. "Did I wake you?"

The little voice inside Peter flares up. It speaks to him. Warns him if he answers yes. it will hurt his mother's feelings. He's here to lessen his mother's suffering, so he listens to the voice and keeps grooming her feathers.

"No. I had a nightmare," he lies.

"Awww, my little baby. It'll be okay."

The mom wipes tears from her face and wraps her wings around the boy. They lie in the bed together, both yearning for his father's return. As much as he appreciates the playful spirit the calmness brings, he can't stand the idea of his mother's sorrow.

Pepper's need for her soulmate is wild and rash. A flame burning within her that swirls with a hero's complex. She's his wife and soulmate. She should be there defending him and keeping him safe, but she's stuck at their home doing nothing.

Peter's wish is much smaller. He wants his father home safe, but mostly to cheer up his mother again. He loves his mom too much. He would do anything to bring his family back together again. Even if that includes hiding himself away.

Tony Stark returns in blazing glory.

He's injured and scared, but there's a new pride shining within him. An inspiration that Pepper hasn't seen in so long - at least since the doctor's visit where they learned she was pregnant. He's ready to create and build something amazing, which only multiplies the love within Pepper. This is the man she fell in love with so quickly.

The broken cast is no more than an irritation compared to the arc reactor in the man's chest, but it gives the man a new outlook on his son's injury from years ago. Things become temporarily difficult with a sprained shoulder, and he can only imagine how his words affected his son during that time. He'd let his prejudices and worries get to him. It clouded his judgment. His son deserves so much better than a watered-down Howard Stark.

It's the thought of his family that saves him from the war-torn country. He's tortured and broken, but the reminder of the two little angels at home keep him moving forward. He needs to get home and protect them, keep them safe after everything that's happened. He needs to know that they are still alive and healthy. Every minute away from them is torture.

He fights through the dust and sand to create something grander. He molds old Stark Industries technology into a small glowing ring that keeps the shrapnel from reaching his heart. And then he welds pieces of metal and weapons together in a suit of rusted armor. A suit that fights through his captors and brings him home.

A suit inspired by the glory of his loved ones - the magical force that guides the supernatural world surrounding him. He caves two angel swirls into the back of the suit as a reminder of where he comes from. He refuses to forget who he's fighting for, or why he so desperately needs to escape. He only knows one thing. Everything he loves in New York City.

_"You two were my saving grace. I wouldn't be alive today if it wasn't for my family. Not without you two." _

He doesn't need his family to protect him anymore - not when he's surrounded by his heroic suit of iron. He can no longer wait for his wife and son to care for him - to rescue him - like he always has. Tony can keep himself safe with his own two hands. He can protect his family in a way no human being has ever been able to before.

Tony Stark becomes Iron Angel.

Peter doesn't usually draw attention during his flight classes. There isn't anything particularly special about him, at least not in this particular environment. He's usually an average seven-year-old boy.

His entire class is filled with kids just like him. They're all blessed, and therefore, they all feel the particular hardships that come with having wings. There's a mutual understanding among the students. Even though they vary in age, most of them have some sort of wariness. No one wants to be used. And no one wants to think about their upcoming Calling.

Many of these kids are also well off financially. It's a top of the line class, only affordable by the highest 1% of society. And while Peter doesn't know that he's one of the richest children in the class, there's a general sense of community among the students.

He doesn't have many friends. It isn't that he doesn't get along with any of the kids. The students are friendly, and he's always picked in team games somewhere around the middle, but he just hasn't clicked with anyone the way he did with Ned.

Everything changes when his dad becomes a superhero. His dad announces to the world that he's the Iron Angel. Every boy dreams of becoming a real-life superhero and Peter is ecstatic, but there's more that comes with the territory. He's already a well-known celebrity, but his social status somehow finds a way to double overnight with his dad's announcement.

He becomes the center of attention and all eyes are glued on him. He's barely through his stretches, but he can feel the gaze of every student baring down on him. It sends shivers down his spine that stress him out, something that he's not used to in this class. This class has become somewhat of a safe space for the boy in the last few years. It's one of the few places he's allowed to be an angel.

"Alright. If everyone's finished with their stretches, we're going to do some basic jumping today. I want everyone to focus on their balance, but most of all do those wing flaps when you reach optimal position. Try to hover for a few seconds if you can, but don't be stressed if it doesn't happen yet. You've all been doing so well lately!"

Peter finishes the last of his wing stretches before climbing the ladder and making his way to the first platform. His wings feel good: the blood pumps through them and his feathers are nice and fresh. His arm is healed, which was quite an annoyance for a few months, but there's something inside of him yearning to fly as he ages. It's something that makes him special and unique, but furthermore, it could be an important task in his Calling one day.

His mom can fly. All of the angels in his cartoons can fly. Even Captain America can fly. So there's no excuse anymore. He needs to stop playing around and make his wings stronger, so that he can finally show his mom. She will be so proud of him. And maybe win his dad over, if he can finally see that there's a use for his wings. That his son can do something right for once.

Peter does the jumps like he's been taught, flapping his wings when he's at the top of his jump, just trying to get a few more inches or hover forward He can feel the air he pushes down with the wings, the way his feathers move with each slam, but he doesn't manage to move himself anymore. His jumps are fully powered by his legs and he can't get his wings to do their job.

Maybe he's too stressed. Everyone's watching him. He can feel it. Their eyes bare down upon him, and there's no one he can hide from their gaze. If he asks them to stop staring, he'll only attract more attention.

Everyone's watching him fail. They know he can't get it right, whether he's not strong or he just isn't putting in enough effort. Most of the other children in his bracket are already flying a few inches. He's the son of an angel and a superhero. Both capable of flight and as strong as could be. Peter could be doing so much better at his age.

Just another case of him being a disappointment.

Peter's not even sure he wants to fly. He can't fly properly - he can't seem to do anything right lately - and it's really starting to bear down on him. The failure has been a lot for his little heart to handle. Flight classes have become major stress for the young child, and most times he comes home in near tears. His mom is tucking him in for bed when a fresh round of them begin to flow.

"Oh no, baby. What's wrong?"

What's wrong? His wings are sore, and despite all his hard work and practice, he still can't fly. Maybe he'll never be able to fly, but the guilt from wanting to quit eats him alive. He feels like a failure.

And no matter where he goes, there's pressure to be something. Everyone in his day classes want to be his friend and touch his wings. The children in his night classes always pick him first, but they only want to ask endless questions about being the son of a superhero. Even his dad wants him to be something he isn't, and he often finds himself wondering if his dad would love him more if he was born human.

He's unable to articulate all this to his mother. Partly because the tears are pouring too quickly from his eyes and he's becoming a blubbering mess - he's too young to have complete control of his emotional reactions yet - but also because he knows some of the things he's thinking would break his mother's heart. His parents are so in love and he can't stand the idea of causing them to get a divorce.

She can't stand his tears. Pepper's heart breaks as she pulls her little boy onto her lap and holds him close, running her fingers through his wings softly. When she finishes grooming him and the tears continue to fall, she runs her fingers through his hair instead. She speaks in soft, comforting whispers and rocks with him in an attempt to soothe both their hearts.

The tears begin to empty and he feels a little bit more in control after an hour's time. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

"No," she says, pulling his face up to look into his teary eyes. "Do not ever be sorry for being upset or having emotions. Everyone gets sad sometimes, baby. I want to be here and wipe your tears. That's a mommy's job, but I can't do that when you hide them away. Okay?"

Peter nods as he nuzzles into her shirt, not so secretly wiping his snot on her shirt. She only wraps her arms around him in return and gives him a reassuring squeeze. She loves him so much.

"Do you feel like telling me what's wrong now?"

"All the other kids in my class can fly, but I still can't."

Her eyes soften as she squeezes him even harder. "Oh, my little Peter. That's all? You'll fly soon."

"How do you know?"

"I just know it. I can feel it in my heart. And in my soul. You would never doubt my soul, right?"

Peter shakes his head quickly. His mom always knows the right thing to do. She's very in tune with her instincts. She's also one of the smartest people in the world, at least according to the little boy. He trusts her completely.

"You were always such a late bloomer, Pete. Did I ever tell you that?"

He shakes his head again in response but looks up at her with the biggest eyes he can muster, eager to hear his mother tell him another story. Her voice makes him feel much better and he just wants her to keep talking.

"You were in my belly extra long. I was swollen and wobbly, and I could barely even walk. Your dad was so annoyed by my complaining, but he followed me around with pillows and whatever I wanted anyway. It almost excused him from calling me a penguin whenever he got the chance," she says with a chuckle.

"Anyways, and then you were born. And you said your first word late. And got your first tooth late. And learned to walk late. Even your wings grew in after we were sure that you were human. But you know what? You got there eventually. And now you're doing amazing, baby."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! I don't know any young boys as smart and creative as you are."

"Really?"

Pepper lifts him up and sets him on her hip. "I'm a hundred percent sure. How about as a treat we do something special. Pancakes maybe? Would that make you feel better?"

He relaxes against her, his limbs and wings sagging as he settles against his mother's body. Peter nods into her side and takes in her scent, already feeling a whole lot better about his future.

Peter's celebrating his friend's birthday today. It's a small party - Ned's mom can't really support a party with every single one of their classmates anyways. This way is easier for both of them. A small gathering with friends is much more enjoyable than a chaotic party.

Besides a few of Ned's family members and cousins, Peter is the only other child there. The only one with wings, which makes him stand out in the crowd more than he normally likes, but settles down once he knows no one cares about him. Everyone's too busy pinching Ned's perfectly round cheeks and spoiling him with an endless show of gifts.

The two kids sit together as Ned opens his birthday gifts. Peter earns an overly excited grin when his friend opens the special Lego set they've both been waiting for. It's even more special because it's something they'll get to share between them. Any time together is a gift worth experiencing.

Then the cake is cut and everyone gets a piece. Peter enjoys the sugary neon frosting that only store-bought cake could provide, practically vibrating from the sugar rush for the next hour. The blood rushes through his wings and he can't stop moving. The kids jump around the room, moving at the speed of light, trying to stop the balloon from reaching the dining room floor.

Peter's relieved when the crowd starts to thin. He's staying the night, so they head to the basement and get their sleeping bags set up. When everything's ready for their late-night celebration, the boys put on a movie, but they can barely focus on the television screen. There's too much sugar pumping through their veins.

"I need to jump," Peter says as he bounces up and down on the floor. It just feels right. He needs to be moving and running and jumping and screaming until he burns off all his energy.

"What?" Ned says with a laugh, pausing the television and throwing a pillow at his friend's head. "Why?"

"I don't know, man. I just do. I need to move. I might explode if I don't. There will be Peter all over the walls!"

"Okay, Okay. How about the floor is lava?"

Peter jumps up and agrees, after a quick explanation of the game from his friend. The idea both excites and scares him since his parents never let him jump on the furniture, but Ned's mom doesn't seem to care less. They both crawl onto their chairs and look at the floor below.

"Okay! The floor is now lava! Touch the ground and you die!"

The boys squeal like pigs as they jump from couch to couch. There are a few close calls, but both of them are pretty good at the game. Peter has the tactical advantage of flight training and angling his wings for balance, something that gives him a boost over his friend, but Ned doesn't give him a hard time.

Besides, Ned is pretty good at the game too. He's got years of experience to boost him above the angelic boy. He's played this game more times before with his cousins, and he has the advantage of knowing the furniture positioning and places to jump. He's even shown off a few trick shots that leave Peter wowed.

"Okay. I bet I can do the big jump, too."

Ned shakes his head. "That one takes years of practice. I don't think you can, young padawan."

Peter shakes his head, edging to the back of the coffee table and leaning forward to gain a running start. His wings brace against him, ready to adjust their position and keep him from falling. Ned tilts his head curiously as he watches them react without Peter's knowledge, but he shakes off the amazement pretty quickly.

"Have fun dying, lava boy."

The angel shakes his head. He doesn't need to make it. He just has to push out his friend's teasing and do the best he possibly can. It's like his mom said. He can do anything else the other kids can, sometimes it just takes a little bit more work and practice, but he'll eventually get there himself. If Ned can do the jump from the table to the sleeping bags, then he can do it too.

He can feel the wind rustle through his feathers from the basement window, the pressure of the room around him, and feel the exact density of the wood beneath his bare feet. Time slows around him as he starts moving forward, starting with his right foot and throwing himself with large strides.

He dives from the coffee table, his wings beating down in a large swoop and sending him up into the air. He reaches forward with his arms, but it becomes quickly apparent that he won't make it. He's going to land in the lava and die.

He can't allow that. His instincts are screaming at him to push himself to his limits and fight against the air, so he does what he feels inside. He follows the instructions from his flight classes. He defies nature and becomes one with his destiny.

When the boy reaches the optimal position, he throws his arms down and flaps his wings as hard as he can. His wings work tiredly behind him, flapping more times in that single second than ever before. And with that, they push large amounts of air below him and move him forward.

The angel flies the last bit he needs to get to the sleeping bags. Peter falls forward onto his hands and knees, panting as his wings pulse behind him. Whether it's excitement or panic, he doesn't yet know.

"That's not fair. You cheated!"

Peter looks up, a bit of a glare on his brow. "I didn't cheat. I didn't mean to do it. My soul was telling me what to do, and I had to listen to it. It just happened."

Ned tilts his head in confusion, all of the anger leaving his face. "I'm sorry. It's just that you never used your wings like that before when we were playing. It's kind of unfair."

His friend doesn't seem upset, so Peter tries not to dwell on his accidental cheating. He just watches as Ned jumps onto the floor and crosses the lava, giving his friend a helping hand and pulling him back onto his feet.

"Are you okay? You look a little freaked out."

"Yeah, because that's the first time I've ever flown, Ned. I think I just did it. I think."

"You definitely flew! Like a whole half a foot! It was so cool, Peter!"

"Oh my gosh! I just flew!"

They run around and scream like excited children, even sneaking upstairs for a scoopful of cake from the fridge, eating with their hands and nothing else. Their faces messes blue and green icing.

"Do you think you could do it again?"

Peter tilts his head and thinks about it. The first time is always the hardest, but he just needs to recreate the circumstances and he should be able to theoretically.

"Probably."

That's how they spend the rest of the night. Diving around the furniture and practicing his flying. He flourishes in this environment, maybe because this home has a bigger heart than the gymnastics arena he usually practices in, but it could also be Ned's screaming and encouragement in the background. His friend follows him around flapping his own arms as wings, but also giving giant bear hugs every time Peter succeeds.

They settle into bed when Ned's mother can't stand the squeals any longer. She kissed their foreheads and reads them a quick bedtime story.

"Did you guys have lots of fun tonight?"

"Lots of fun. We flew around the furniture like angels."

Ned's mom just nods as she shuts off the lights. "I'm glad you had a good birthday, dear. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

"Sweet dreams, Mrs. Leeds."

Peter hadn't even thought about his mom until now. She's going to be so proud of him. She was right all along: her boy was just a late bloomer. But he did it! He figured out the impossible.

Yet there's a rock sitting in Peter's stomach. If he tells his mom what happened, his father will find out too. And this is the furthest thing that his father needs to know about. He's busy with his superhero lifestyle and still isn't the biggest fan of their angel heritage. He won't be as proud as his mother.

There's fear in the boy that can't be escaped. It fills him with anxiety, and while he was feeling perfect and excited only seconds ago, he's suddenly filled with dread and worry again. It's something he can never escape. He can never escape the weight strapped to his back.

"Can I be there when you tell your mom tomorrow? She's gonna flip out."

Peter's dad just wants to protect him, to keep him safe and sound. He provides everything for their family and does so much to give them a place to live. All he asks is that they are a little safer than their angel status requires - ignore their instincts and Calling.

He can't hurt his dad like this. Peter shouldn't be anymore angel than he has to be.

"My dad's gonna flip," he says with little emotion, only an ounce of fear.

"No. It'll be okay, Peter. I'm sure."

"No! You can't know that. You have to promise me not to tell anyone that I flew tonight. Not my mom or my dad or your parents or the teacher or the kids in our class. No one. It'll be our little secret."

Ned stares at his friend with narrowed eyes. Peter is wrong. He knows it. He can feel it in his heart and soul. But all the boy can do is a supportive best friend. He can help Peter work through his insecurities.

"Of course, Peter. I pinkie promise."


End file.
